I Wanna Be Your Dog
by Joanie Dark
Summary: An accident killing Nepeta left Equius a shell of a troll, and he was placed into Gamzee's posession to keep him from doing anything drastic. However, as the slime starts to run low, Gamzee's disposition starts to change.  Rated M for character death


"Damn, my motherfuckin' head hurts."

Equius had stopped protesting the highblood's language. It seemed it didn't have too much point anymore; if the highblood wished to do speak in that unrefined manner, he would speak it. It wasn't his place to chastise him in the least, certainly not since he was put in the highblood's care.

The accident that had killed Nepeta had left Equius a shattered, broken shell of a troll. If the dead were 0k with things, Equius was simply disappointed. Nothing seemed to have any purpose when she was gone.

Seeing the troll in such a delapidated state was what led to the vote. Someone had to take care of the guy, or something drastic was sure to happen. There were no doubts about that. The last thing they needed was another dead teammate on their hands.

In the end, the group decided to put him into Gamzee's care. It seemed to be working well, if the last few weeks were anything to show for it-the clown's relaxed, magical take on life allowed him to accept his new position easier than some of the more on-edge trolls would have, and Equius seemed as pleased as someone in his depressive state could be to be placed under the highblood.

Given to the highblood.

His belonging.

Yes, that was it. It was the possession that allowed him to go on. He had been conflicted before in life over his place in the world, but between watching over Nepeta and lending his skills in the mechanical sciences to his companions, he had seemed to have some purpose. In this floating computer lab however, with no kitten to care for or devices to construct, he had lost most reason to go on. Until the highblood.

Being his property was a new thrill that could almost make him smile again on occassion. The troll was sadly uncouth, with his crass words and dellusions and drugged behaviour, but he was the highblood, and he was his master.

Though the drugged behaviour seemed to be a little bit of a problem, in a completely different manner than he would have expected.

The sopor slime that they had stashed away was slowly diminishing. It was what led the trolls to sleeping in their primative piles and battling daymares every time they tried to sleep, but it affected Gamzee more negatively than the others. He had been feeding on the slime, after all, and as the amounts started to dwindle, so did his consumption.

It was at that point that the splitting headaches had started.

Equius gently laid a small towel, soaked in cold water, over Gamzee's brow and knelt beside the reclining highblood. Gamzee smiled and gave a little sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Eq-bro," he said, clapping the bulkier troll on the shoulder. A slight blue flush came over him, and a bead of sweat dripped from his temple.

"Highblood, I must implore you to not touch someone of lower status such as myself," he said, his voice low. Gamzee laughed.

"Why not? Can't a motherfucker thank someone for laying on some miracles to soothe my aching think pan?" Gamzee asked, and Equius' brow furrowed.

"It is still inappropriate for you to deign to lay a hand upon one of a lower caste than yourself, highblood," Equius said, words going into a whisper and sweat increasing as the highblood's hand stroked his cheek gently, trailing down to rest on his throat. The two sat there in silence, Equius a turmoil of conflicting emotions as he watched the contemplative expression on Gamzee's face change subtly. Finally, Gamzee made a little grunt and dropped his hand, wiping it off on his pantleg.

"I really need to get my motherfuckin hands on some more slime," he said eventually, and Equius remained respectfully silent. The highblood would clarify if he wished, and it was no longer his place to chastise him on his partaking in questionable substances. Sure enough, Gamzee continued. "There's like this...these little motherfucking whispers fillin' my head. They keep sayin' this shit I can't really hear, creepy shit, telling me what to motherfuckin' do." He looked at Equius expectantly.

"My appologies, Highblood. I am afraid I do not know how one would dismiss invasive vocal hallucinations."

"I keep thinking. Maybe they aren't actually motherfuckin' hallucinations. Maybe the high one that laughs. Fuckin' creepy shit right there, but at least he's a cheery motherfucker. The angry, screaming one sounds just the fuck like me." Gamzee scratched his chin, smudging the facepaint absently. "Maybe the fucker is me for all I know."

Equius had a feeling somewhere in his mind that he should be mildly disturbed about these revelations. He dismissed it instantly; there was no reason for anything to disturb him nowadays.

"If I may be permitted to ask," Equius started, internally pleased by the necessity of request, "what can you understand of the voices' speech?"

"Not much, brother," Gamzee said, his frown clashing with the devilish smile painted onto his face, "whispers of the Mirthful Messiah, of shit that's going to happen, people fuckin' dying..." He shrugged a bit. "Maybe I am just hearing shit. Fuckin' any day any of us motherfuckers could die..." He stopped suddenly, looking at Equius. "Oh fuck man, I'm sorry, openin' that motherfuckin' container of grubs back up and shit."

Equius shakes his head slightly. "You have commited no sleight against me, Highblood," he said. He had learned to grow cold to mentions of death. It was an inevitability, after all. It was really just a matter of time, he supposed, until they all found themselves dead. At least in the meantime he was here at the highblood's side.

It gave life the tiniest bit of worth.

Gamzee's condition grew worse as time went on. He grew prone to outbursts of rage as the voices began to grow louder and his head continued to split with pain.

Of course, Equius was there to absorb the majority of the bard's wrath. It was his duty.

His privledge.

His _pleasure._

Honestly, he found himself occasionally wondering if he deserved to be treated so harshly by the highblood. He did not wish that the clown-faced youth would stop; quite the opposite. All he found himself wanting nowadays was to be ordered around more harshly, striken with more force, simply put in his place.

There was nothing but pleasing the highblood. Being hurt by the highblood. It was _marvelous._ He couldn't call it anything else. Whenever he heard Gamzee's voice bark out a command nowadays-his voice had taken to shifting into the more stern, cold tone of a noble Equius had been pleased to note-he was more than happy to come running to his side in order to indulge in whatever use or abuse he was to recieve.

More than happy.

Hmm. _Happy._ That was new.

It so happened that one day he heard his name growled, the voice taking the lower and calmer of the two tones Gamzee had recently drifted into, and he was quickly at the highblood's side. The highblood's face was...different, to say the least. Offputting and dangerous, but it merely entranced Equius more to see the fatigued reddish eyes glowing beneath the smeared white paint.

"There's no motherfuckin' slime left," Gamzee said calmly, and Equius nodded.

"Should I seek out more, sir?" he asked, wincing slightly as Gamzee's forehead creased in annoyance. He had displeased the highblood; this was no good.

"No fucking way. That shit really does make your think pan rot away," he said, voice still calm. Suddenly, his eyes flashed, and a huge grin ripped across his face.

"Everything's so motherfuckin' clear now!" he roared, throwing his head back with a laugh. Suddenly, his eyes shot back to Equius, dull once more. "Everything makes sense." Bright and manic. "What I was motherfuckin' _meant to do!_"

Equius bit at his lip slightly, unsure how to take the highblood's reaction. "What do you mean?"

"Simple. I'm supposed to take my rightful place."

"I'm the mirthful motherfucking messiah!"

"And so am I."

"And I have to motherfuckin' kill all the lowblooded motherfuckers!"

Equius shuddered as the wicked eyes of the highblood surveyed him, as a grey tongue flicked out of the sharp-tooth smile and licked paint-smeared lips. _Finally._ It had been long enough.

"So you've finally embraced your place as...the highblood?" Equius asked slowly, sweat slowly starting to streak down his brow. He swore he saw the highblood's grin grow when he trembled at the mention of his bloodrank.

"That's right, motherfucker." The tall, gangly troll took a step forward and grabbed Equius' throat as he purred the words. "And do you know what that means?"

"Highblood..."

"Do you know what that motherfucking _means?_"

"You..." Equius gulped, trying to keep the corners of his lips from twitching upwards. "you are going to take my insignificant life?"

Gamzee cackled at that, giving the blue blood's throat a tight squeeze before shoving him aside.

"Kneel, brother." Confused but ever loyal, Equius dropped instantly to his knees.

"Sir?" he asked inquisitively.

"You're so fuckin' useful, you everlovin' bastard, you. Such a _motherfuckin' miracle!_" Gamzee laughed again, and then smiled the most disturbingly innocent of smiles. "I wouldn't kill you, bro. You're going to fuckin' help me rip them apart."

Equius gaped, then nodded. The highblood's will be done.

_Nine little heads in a neat little row._

_Nine streaks of blood form a lovely rainbow._

_Nine faces stare, full of sadness and pain_

_Nine friends are dead, and thus they shall remain_

Equius' eyes shut slowly as the highblood lazily stroked his hair. They had made the lovliest of little piles from the corpses where Gamzee now reclined, his pet's head resting in his lap as he lay on the floor. The two were spattered with a beautiful spectrum of colour, the scent of blood filling the room.

Everything was right, the way it should be.

The feud of the sea- and landdwellers had been ended justly.

The lowbloods who would not bow to the authority of those above them had been culled.

The world was quiet and peaceful and beautiful, a perfect little rock floating dreamily through space.

They had never been happier.


End file.
